


Daisies Are Growing in the Garden

by SpaghettiCanActivist



Series: Justified [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Child Abuse, Episode: s09e07 Bad Boys, Forgiveness, Gen, Physical Abuse, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-23 11:25:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16618055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaghettiCanActivist/pseuds/SpaghettiCanActivist
Summary: Part of a series where Dean stays at Sonny's. AU to Bad Boys.John can't remember how it came to this, Bobby pointing a shotgun in his face and telling him that he is abusing his baby boy. Because no, those bruises, Sam was just being too loud, arguing too much, he just wasn't listening. It's not the shotgun that does it though, it's the look of pure unadulterated fear in Sam's eyes when they drive away, fear that John will strike him.





	Daisies Are Growing in the Garden

The first time is a month after Dean has left. John is still fighting a battle of heart and mind, because Dean decided to stay and that wasn't what was supposed to happen. But it had, and he knew that he couldn't -wouldn't- pull Dean back in. Sam was oblivious to this battle, he yapped about school and asked incessant questions about when Dean was coming back, ignorant to John's heartache.

They're in a motel room in Arizona and Sam is shouting about Dean and then, of all things, while John is shouting back and the argument sort of makes sense even though both of them (i.e. John) are so mad, Sam mentions his history homework. The level of anger he talks about his homework with is equal to that of how he talks about Dean, it is outright absurd, it strikes John and it makes some cord in him that's been stretched taut since the moment he pulled away from his eldest snap.

He barely knows he's backhanded Sam until he hears a strange thing. It's dead silent. Sam is on the ground, hand clasped to his cheek and his nose bleeding, but somehow the most important thing is that Sam is absolutely quiet. John is stunned, looks at his hand and then at Sam. He does nothing for a few long moments, staring at his child curled up defensively on the floor. Then he stumbles to his bed and falls asleep, thinking idly that he shouldn't have had those couple shots of whiskey and that it is, blissfully, joyfully, wonderfully silent for once.

The second time it's not so violent or sudden. Sam is mouthing off about training and John grabs him, Sam shuts up but his eyes are still screaming so John tightens his grip on Sam's wrist until Sam's eyes grow wide with fear and then pain and then turn down and away from John as their silent pleading doesn't work. It is once again, blessedly, quiet.

The third time John thinks less about it. Sam isn't mouthing off, or arguing about school, but he's yawning during shooting practice, being outright lazy and dismissive of John's passion and care and his entire goddamn life. He's in the middle of explaining, for the second time, about sight alignment and he can tell Sam isn't listening. Usually he'd reprimand, he'd yell or Dean would nudge Sam and tell him in a playful manner to shape up. Dean isn't here and pain spikes, along with an uncontrolled anger.

John is smacking Sam to the ground before he really is thinking about what he's doing. Sam is pale and terrified, the gun to the side out of his hands and useless. John uses this as a segue, haranguing Sam about how his ability to focus and stay aware is the difference between life and death. John thinks afterwards that maybe he could've smacked Sam to the ground in a way that didn't leave a large, quickly darkening bruise around his boy's eye.

He almost forgets it after that, each moment it happens it feels like the real John is light years away, hovering in an empty space where his other son used to be. He's not used to giving up on people, not ever, but here he is, having to give up on Dean. Sam is just the byproduct. John is absent and a monster is left in his place. He is oblivious to the changes occuring in his boy, how Sam holds himself like a kicked dog, how he watches John constantly with haunted anticipatory eyes, how he's decorated with bruises.

They go to Robert Singer's one day. If John, the John Winchester who didn't miss a beat and kept his eyes peeled and his wit sharp, had really been present then he would've realized what a massively stupid idea it is taking his boy looking the way he did to a house where a man like Bobby Singer lived.

The John in charge right now though is still reeling from his eldest son's abandonment of all he thought mattered. This John has missed more than a few beats. John knocks, Sam is standing behind him and in all honesty his boy is cowering, he just misses it.

The door swings open on the inside, Bobby's face and upper body shaded and minced by the screen door. He gruffly asks for his visitors' names. John answers for both of them. Holy water is handed to them in a flask along with a silver bullet. They do the traditional hunter greeting dance and soon enough Bobby is pulling the screen door wide and holding it open with the hand not carrying the shotgun so they can step on in.

His eyes fall on Sam and they do not leave. John is again oblivious. Sam's just scared. Bobby watches Sam the entire time, eyes narrowed to slits and not discarding the shotgun. They make their way toward the kitchen and John turns to face Bobby, Sam scoots behind John and keeps on cowering. Bobby enters and his eyes are slicing through John. John is still oblivious, Sam is still scared.

"Why don't you go on outside and play with Rumsfeld, poor fellow is dying to get a friendly face within his perimeter."

Bobby's voice is very soft and Sam gives a small nod, scampering from the room. Rumsfeld is indeed tied up outside, bored out of his mind on his twenty five foot chain. John barely has time to look away from where Sam ran off before Bobby is leveling his shotgun at him.

"What the hell you doing to that boy?!" It's hissed but it still jars John as if it'd been shouted.

"What are you talking about Singer?" John sputters back, indignant and honestly quite confused.

"Don't play dumb, you asshole, the bruises."

John stills, mind racing through what Bobby could possibly mean. Bruises? Whose bruises? It clicks, and John frowns. Sam came in wearing a t-shirt, Metallica of course left over from Dean, and also a few bruises on his arms and one which spread along his cheek and left eye like blackberry jam.

John's mind, actively his for the first time takes over and shoves memories up, and with it guilt. It is dead silent in Bobby's kitchen. John's desperate, because for the first time he is realizing that he'd been hurting his boy. He remembers a conversation with Mary, in depth, in the cover of night about six months into her pregnancy with Dean. She talks about hitting kids, they both do, about how it'll never happen. That their lives have been complicated and that corporal punishment just bleeds much too easily into abuse. He'd promised, John had promised.

Bobby is looking and he sees the sudden realization and it just makes him more angry.

"You get out of my house and you don't come back," Bobby snarls.

John nods his head dumbly, before making a move to go after Sam. Bobby swings the shotgun up toward John's face. John doesn't need words to know exactly what Bobby is suggesting. John has no intention on leaving his child here, Sam was still his even if John didn't deserve that.

John heads toward the front door instead. Once he's out of the house and Bobby's shut the door, he's sprinting to the back where he knows Rumsfeld is tied up. Sam's there, laughing happily as he plays with Rumsfeld. It hurts, because John can't remember the last time Sam laughed, let alone smiled.

John races forward, knowing there is no time for explanations. Bobby is no doubt on his way to checking on Sam and John knows that the man will have no reservations about shooting him.

So he sprints forward, arms snatching Sam, who's still so little, so light. Sam lets out a choked cry, then he sees that it's John and he's once again just terrified.

John hears Bobby's shouts, ignores them and prays that Bobby is smart enough to not shoot. He pulls Sam closer to his chest so that his son is in less danger or at least protected by John's body if Bobby does shoot. And he knows how ironic that is, because the person who Sam really needs protecting from is John, not Bobby.

They make it to the car, John sliding into the driver's seat and dumping Sam on the seat next to him. He starts the Impala and peels out of there. Sam's shaking, he's still scared. John sees it for once, the scales falling from his eyes.

John drives for a long time, going and going until they aren't in South Dakota anymore but Iowa. He stops at a motel and because he's been silent the entire time, Sam is still scared. John grabs the bags, slams the trunk shut and moves toward the motel room he'd got for them. Sam had sat in the car and was now trailing behind John, hands for once empty because John grabbed everything.

John walks in, dumps his son's duffle, his own and the weapons bag on the floor. He secures the room first, because at least he won't inflict death upon Sam even if for some reason he's completely forgotten his boy's basic safety and care. Sam tries to help like he usually does and John waves him away, he wants to do this himself, protect Sam all by himself. Sam sits on the bed farthest from the door and keeps his head down and his hands clasped in his lap.

John finishes and when he looks up to see his son he see's a battered thirteen year old, one that is scared and clenching his hands tight because he's trying to keep them from shaking. It's quiet too, and instead of the silence being blissful it cuts into John and breaks him.

John wipes at his face, feels tears pooling in his eyes and a sharp, sharp sense of loss.

"Sam," he manages to say.

Sam's head snaps up and he is scared. John moves forward, trying to be soft in his approach, non-threatening. Sam still cowers and John gets close enough that Sam flinches.

John cries then, drops to his knees and lays his face against the mattress. He can tell Sam is confused, a hand lightly reaching out to brush his father's shoulder as John sobs into the old duvet.

"Dad?"

Sam sounds worried and John sobs harder, a hand coming out to grab his son's hand. Sam stiffens. John lifts his head and through blurry eyes gently pulls Sam into a hug.

"I'm sorry Sammy, I'm sorry son," John sobs.

Sam is stiff at first, hesitant and confused. John doesn't let up and his hold stays gentle. Sam eventually melts into the embrace, allowing his father to cradle him.

John does not ever hit Sam again. It takes a few months, but Sam stops cowering, the fear leaves his eyes, but there is an innocence never to be restored to those eyes.


End file.
